Roll on Summer
by t-me
Summary: This is my first fanfic ever, please be nice. Don't worry it's short.


**ROLL ON SUMMER**

AUTHOR: t-me!

Disclaimer: If you recognise a character you probable deserve a medal, but anyway I don't own, don't sue, I'm broke.

AN: I wrote this during my leaving cert English test (which is why no one's mentioned) but when I had finished I realised I had read the question wrong. Thankfully I had enough time to go back and do it right.

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_Roll on summer_ the young man thought.

He was daydreaming of holiday plans and struggling to pay attention.

This in itself would be quite usual for a man of his age but instead of looking out a window in a classroom or some other situation along the same lines this young man was crouched on a roof beam of a warehouse hiding in shadows watching some figures unload boxes.

_I'm going to do nothing but laze around in the sun_ he fought back the urge to sigh _even bad guys take a break for the summer._

The people below had finished unloading and were moving them to the centre of the warehouse moving out of the boy's field of vision.

Taking a breath to centre himself and concentrating on balance and silence he practically sprinted across the beam along the top of the warehouse.

_Warehouses. I am SICK of warehouses_ he thought crouching down again.

_This better be the last time they try this._

The reassuring weight of a silver ankh hit against his chest as he stopped and he thought about who gave it to him.

_**flashback**_

"You know you're the only one of my friends who knows about what I do and doesn't hassle me about it."

"You get what everyone gets, a lifetime. What you do with it is up to you."

"Thanks."

_**end flashback**_

_Thanks_ he fingered his chain and smiled as he thought how no matter what the outcome he would be among friends.

A figure below detached itself from the group and got on a crate to make a speech.

He didn't bother listening; it was the usual 'rallying the troops' speech to show how nothing could stop them.

_Time to get ready._

The figure was wearing black boots with good grips and reinforced toes and heals. Mainly to cause as much damage as possible with a kick _'cause I need all the help I can get_ and black jeans that he could move comfortably in, which meant that they were beginning to go grey but he didn't care about that.

From the bottom to the knee of the out side on both legs there was a metal bar, also black, that could be snapped together to make a staff.

Above the knee to the pockets you could see the black handles of throwing knives, _if_ you could see him. He wasn't wearing black as a fashion statement after all.

Under a leather jacket, that was bullet-proof (and, you guessed it, black) he was wearing a dark blue t-shirt with the words "I went to hell and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" written in red.

It was the only colour in his getup but he risked it, itwas a gift from another friend and his favourite t-shirt.

He thought about his friend and wondered if he could persuade her to come on holiday with him to a beach somewhere.

_Maybe I could get her to wear a bikini_ he smiled and shook the thought from his head as he moved toward the corner of the warehouse and away from the figures below.

As he moved the jacket opened and it was possible to see a pair of guns in shoulder holsters and extra clips arranged around his belt.

A few marked with various colours of tape.

On his back was a double-headed axe, balanced, versatile and easy to use, _it slices, it dices_ but above all sharp.

This was over his right shoulder; over his left was a sword; a gift from another friend who had made it himself.

The young man had a lot of friends but they all tried to push him away from dangerous situations, but he couldn't go away, not when he knew that they weren't safe.

The young man drooped down from the roof in the darkest corner, kicking off both walls to slow his descent and landed as quietly as possible.

He crept as quietly as the shadows themselves to the door and locked it.

He had taken care of the other escape routes earlier.

Now he was trapped with them and they were trapped in with him.

He fingered the two grenades in his jacket pocket; they were for 'just in case'.

As he moved back towards the centre of the room he smiled.

_Let's cause some carnage._

_

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AN: In case you were wondering the main character is Xander. His friend that gave him the ankh is Death from the sandman comics. The person who gave him the t-shirt could be any of the girls on the show (I can't remember who I had I mind). And the sword was give to him by an immortal, but Xander's not one. The immy is an original character I had in my head and I'm never going to get around to writing him so you can pretend it's whichever one you like best.

This is my first fanfic and thank you to Jaspis for the helpful comments.


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